The similarities were uncanny: the clock nearing midnight, the shinigami towering silently in the doorway and the boy, bent sleeplessly over a notebook.
Ryuk regarded Light Yagami with gleaming eyes. There were similarities, yes. Put the two scenes in front of any other shinigami and they probably wouldn't be able to tell which was which, but Ryuk knew that there was a subtle, yet definite difference between Light and Taro. Humans were not all exactly the same.
"This kid… I need to kill him."
Ryuk glared over Light's shoulder at the computer screen, but it was a mess of words and numbers.
"What kid?" he asked, prompting Light for an explanation so he wouldn't have to decipher all that data.
"His name is Miura. He approached the police the day after Takagi and Yamanaka lost their jobs."
Miura. Ryuk chuckled to himself. "Wasn't that the day you killed the fake L?"
Light's eyes narrowed at the mention of his old humiliation, but he nodded. "It says here that he was talking about a notebook, but the police didn't take him seriously. The details are sketchy, but it sounds a lot like the same story that got Yamanaka fired. Why didn't they make the connection?"
It seemed terribly obvious to him: one person with a crazy story was one thing (the police files were always full of them) but two completely separate people with the same crazy story were quite another. These people had definitely come in contact with a death note. It was sketchy, but according to their stories, the death note had been destroyed. Light didn't have the power to question these people and find out what else they knew, but L certainly did. It was better to just kill them now.
"Didn't you kill Yamanaka already?" said Ryuk, not following.
"That doesn't matter. What matters is that he told members of the investigation about a notebook. I found the whole story in the police files on my dad's computer. It's lucky they thought he was crazy; they didn't even bother to properly record what he said."
Light leafed back through the death note, stopping at a particular page. Scrawled haphazardly in large letters was the name LIND. L. TAILOR, directly followed by the names of Yamanaka and Takagi in neat kanji. He glanced up at the calendar: Takagi should have been dead for nearly a week by now, but it would be a long time before anybody figured it out. Since the fake L incident, Light had become much more proactive about protecting himself. He would not be humiliated again. He had to stay a step ahead of L: fortunately, his father's access to police information allowed him to do just that.
"Two people with the same story… it's definitely something L should have noticed, but I guess even the great L can't do everything by himself. It's taken me nearly a month to trawl through all these files by myself, so some of his underlings must have screwed up." Pausing, Light flipped forward to the next blank page. "L is on the lookout for heart attacks, so as long as I make it seem like an accident, I should be able to kill Miura without drawing attention. I have his name and his details right here, all I need is to see his face."
"What about his friend?" asked the shinigami.
Light was a little surprised; he didn't think Ryuk had bothered to read what was on the screen. "I'll check it out just to be safe, but it sounds to me like his friend is either imaginary, or already dead. The effect of the death note can't be reversed, so this thing about people coming back to life must have been a lie to cover up what he'd done."
With a self-confident smirk, Light began to construct a plan. He was too focused to notice Ryuk's muffled laughter in the background.
BOY DIES IN SCHOOL BUS TRAGEDY
L's face was expressionless as he stared at the headline on his computer screen. To anyone observing him, it might have looked as though he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open, or drifted off into a daydream and lost track of time altogether. But Matsuda knew better: this was the very face Ryuzaki wore when he did all of his deepest thinking. It was an honour really, to know such a detail about the world's most famously secretive detective. Matsuda had never imagined that he'd ever get the chance to work with the celebrated L, let alone meet him in person and uh, fetch his coffee.
Not wanting to disturb Ryuzaki's no doubt brilliant thought process, Matsuda set the coffee down as quietly as possible; making sure that the bowl of sugar cubes was within easy reach. Ryuzaki continued to stare unblinkingly. Matsuda watched him, slightly alarmed and wondering if a person's eyelids could atrophy from disuse. It was unnerving. But they had only met two days ago: given a bit more time, he knew he'd eventually get used to Ryuzaki's quirks.
"Thank you, Matsuda," Ryuzaki suddenly said, making Matsuda jump. He immediately felt foolish: Ryuzaki had the worst social timing of anyone he'd ever met, but he sometimes wondered if it was on purpose. Ryuzaki simply slid the cup of coffee closer and started adding sugar; Matsuda watched in fascination as, one by one, the sugar cubes threatened to make the cup overflow.
L's sense of humour was unconventional, to say the least. He continued to watch the computer screen, where he could see Matsuda's mirrored eyes growing rounder and rounder. The coffee soon reached the rim of the cup: L paused for a moment before ever so slowly, carefully, adding one more cube.
Matsuda couldn't stand it any longer.
"Ryuzaki!"
"Yes?"
"Your coffee… it's full."
"So it is." L craned his neck down to look at his coffee from eye level. It was actually a little more than full: the liquid bulged slightly above the cup's rim, held there by surface tension.
There was only one thing to do. Leaning forward in his seat, he balanced precariously on his toes and stuck his mouth on the edge of the cup.
"Ryuzaki!"
Highly amused, he inhaled with a noisy slurp.
"I think I know that kid!"
L spluttered and removed his face from the coffee. That wasn't how the game went.
"Kid?" he murmured, focusing on the computer screen properly for the first time in half an hour. Contrary to what Matsuda thought, L hadn't been working very hard at all. They were still waiting for security tapes from the day of the FBI agents' deaths to arrive, so too much further speculation would be detrimental at this stage. At least, that was his justification for slacking off all morning. It was plain to see that he'd been surfing the net for interesting news stories instead of doing anything constructive, but he hadn't expected Matsuda, of all people, to call him on it.
"Yeah, that kid!" Matsuda continued. "It was the day of the big broadcast. He came to the central police station for an interview."
"Oh, I see. You're being serious."
Matsuda had the feeling that he was being made fun of on more levels than he could comprehend.
"Did you interview him yourself?" asked L, returning to his usual position in the chair.
"Yeah, but he was - "
"Was this interview related to the Kira investigation?"
"Well, yes, but - "
"Then his death is suspicious."
Matsuda blinked. "But it was just a random road accident. Do you think Kira could have done it?" He couldn't see how Ryuzaki figured that one. FBI agents aside, Kira's victims had always been criminals, and they had always died of heart attacks. This poor schoolboy had done nothing worse than dashing across the road without looking.
"The chance is very small: less than one percent. Given Kira's past behaviour, we wouldn't normally expect him to deviate from his usual method of killing. However, there is no reason that Kira couldn't drive a bus, or push a schoolboy onto a busy road… we do know that he is human, after all."
"So we should investigate the bus driver?"
"No. It was only an example. Both of those scenarios are extremely unlikely."
Matsuda resisted the urge to point out that this entire train of thought was extremely unlikely: less than one percent, as Ryuzaki himself had put it.
L raised a hand to his chin and rested his thumb against his lower lip. "What this means is that… either I have an overactive imagination, or this was a very special circumstance for Kira."
"Speaking of overactive imaginations, that kid was crazy."
"Crazy?" L twisted in his chair and stared up at Matsuda. "What did he tell you?"
"I don't remember very well to be honest, um… something about a magic diary. If he wrote someone's name down they would die, but if he erased the name they would come back to life."
L took a moment to mull this over. "That is crazy. Did he claim to have used this magic diary on anyone in particular? If there were any corresponding deaths, we might have a new lead."
Matsuda frowned: was Ryuzaki actually serious about this? It was hard to tell. "Uh… I can't remember off the top of my head. Do you really think it could lead to something? I mean, it seems a little… um…" He trailed off and shrugged, not wanting to insult Ryuzaki's theory.
"Any insight we can get into Kira's methods will be immensely useful."
And there was the magic word. Matsuda's frown dissolved. "The notes I took during the interview will be stored in the database. I could look them up for you, if you want?"
"Go right ahead." L unfolded himself from the chair and offered it to Matsuda, who gingerly pushed the sugar-laden cup of coffee aside before reaching for the computer. Oddly, the police database didn't demand Matsuda's security code the usual half-dozen times: he supposed L had some sort of special access.
Hunched over, fingers at his lips, L stared intently. If Matsuda had looked over his shoulder at that moment, he might have realised that L's considerable deductive powers were not focused on any silly magic diary, but entirely on Matsuda himself. Young, eager and impulsive, he was a far cry from the grizzled veterans L usually dealt with. Not necessarily a bad thing, but not always good either.
"I found it!" Matsuda announced, prompting L to look up. It was indeed the same kid. L took a moment to scan the boy's story: a magic notebook, which he had used to kill some bullies before turning it over to the police for some unnamed reason. It also mentioned a friend of his, who had apparently been able to bring people back to life with a magic eraser. The notebook had allegedly been destroyed by two police detectives.
"What were the names of these two police detectives? It would be interesting if they turned out to be real people," said L.
Matsuda decided not to try and guess what was going on inside Ryuzaki's head. "I didn't take their names," he admitted, feeling a little incompetent. "The story just seemed so crazy that I didn't think it was a good idea to ask."
"I can understand that, certainly."
There was a long pause, during which Ryuzaki just kept staring vacantly at the computer.
Matsuda made a small coughing sound. "So… if you don't think this is a serious lead, shouldn't we get back to work or something?"
"Yes, of course. You're right."
L waited for Matsuda to leave before settling back into the chair, knees drawn up in front of him. Apart from analysing various members of his investigation team, there was very little to do until the security tapes of the FBI agents arrived. The small mystery of Miura's death would have to provide him with some entertainment in the meantime.